


A Wider View

by windfallswest



Series: A Wider View [1]
Category: Havemercy Series - Jaida Jones & Danielle Bennett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17420123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/windfallswest/pseuds/windfallswest
Summary: "So, is he taking it easy on you?""Um." Hal tried not to spray his coffee halfway across the coffee shop. He assumed he was blushing furiously, even without the sudden heat in his cheeks to tip him off."If you don't want your sex life to be public knowledge, you shouldn't take up with such notorious characters."





	A Wider View

**Author's Note:**

> Hal discovers kink. I.e., this series is basically going to be a lot of porn. I hope everyone's okay with that.

"So, is he taking it easy on you?"

"Um." Hal tried not to spray his coffee halfway across the coffee shop. He assumed he was blushing furiously, even without the sudden heat in his cheeks to tip him off.

Cordelia, who was observant and so had no doubt noticed him looking around like a trapped fox, offered him a wry, friendly smile. "Don't tell me you're surprised I know you're sleeping with him. If you don't want your sex life to be public knowledge, you shouldn't take up with such notorious characters."

Hal winced and took an evasive sip of coffee instead of replying.

"He's Margrave Royston. Last year, he was arrested and exiled for tupping the Arlemagne prince. 'Innocently platonic' was never really a consideration in anyone's mind."

"I don't care if people know," Hal said firmly.

"Good, because the real miracle of Thremedon isn't the Well, it's that anyone ever stops gossiping for long enough to do anything worth gossiping about." Cordelia snorted rudely and bit into her pastry.

Hal had met Cordelia during the first lecture of the literature course they were both enrolled in. Cordelia was taking it more to discuss the philosophy of the works than their literary merit, but really because they didn't let you study _only_ the sciences. She was as plain-spoken as any Mollyrat but almost painfully earnest, and they had become fast friends. Which was why Hal was sitting here blushing and not running away.

"The real miracle," Hal cleverly redirected the conversation, "would be if we got this essay written for the end of the week."

"Bastion a-men. Have you managed to _find_ a copy of Casselcrick's _Analysis_?"

That had been far too easy. Hal couldn't help but glance suspiciously at Cordelia as they floated thesis-ideas and complaints back and forth. Cordelia guilelessly continued to keep up her end of the conversation.

"What did you mean by that?" Hal finally burst out half an hour later over a turbulent sea of notes.

Cordelia blinked at him. "I merely suggested that, while unquestionably expeditious, putting a knife in the provost's back was maybe not the most morally laudable course of action."

"No, I mean—well. What you said earlier. About, um, Royston."

"I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable with, y'know, everything you two are doing together."

_I knew it, I knew it,_ Hal thought, blushing furiously. _But I just_ had _to ask anyway._

"It's, um, good." Hal felt himself blush even harder. "Very good."

Cordelia's smile grew conspiratorial. "Good." And then she went back to discussing the relative merits of murder as a solution for avoiding petty fines.

"But," Hal interrupted five minutes later, "what. What did you think he might want to do? That would make me uncomfortable."

Cordelia put down her coffee, picked up her pen and started twiddling it. "Well, any number of things. Ropes, whips, toys, roleplaying. Talking dirty. Flying helmets and wet celery. Other kinks and fetishes of various sorts."

If Hal blushed any harder, he was going emit actual waves of embarrassment-coloured light.

"I grew up next to a brothel in Molly, remember."

"That's the life story of, well, a surprising number of the people I've met here." Hal was slowly getting himself back under control.

"That's because everyplace in Molly is next to a brothel." Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"You are the most cold-bloodedly moral person I've ever met."

"Coping mechanism." She shrugged it off. "If you're curious, I know a place where you might see a few things; some people get off on being watched."

For certain values of moral, anyway. Bastion, could you get sunburn from the inside out? "Um, thanks, but I think I'll talk to Royston about it."

This got a sunny, approving smile from Cordelia that left Hal with a less than admirable impulse to bring up her own recent love-life. "Good."

Hal was distracted for the rest of the afternoon. The rest of the week, actually, because he wanted to talk with Royston about this—he really did—but he had a feeling he'd be even more distracted after they did; and probably he ought to write the essay first so he'd be able to graduate 'Versity and get a job and not just be Royston's houseboy for the rest of his life.

Not that being Royston's houseboy didn't have its perks. Royston kept looking at him a little sideways, like he knew something was up. Hal, whose distraction was keeping certain things other than literary analysis at the forefront of his thoughts, tended to blush when that happened. Which made Royston even more suspicious.

"What _has_ been on your mind, love?" Royston asked one night, toppling amiably backward onto their bed under an onslaught of affectionate Hal (he may not have been _talking_ about it, but he was certainly still embarrassingly worked up by nightfall).

"Very exciting book." Hal grinned when Royston rolled them over and pinned his hands. He did rather like it when Royston did that.

Royston snorted. "Try again."

"Ask me after I'm done with it?" Hal suggested.

He emphasised his point by wrapping his legs around Royston's waist and arching up into him. Since they had been half-naked for a little while now, this was very persuasive and Royston reached for the bedside table of drawers instead of continuing his line of questioning.

Somewhat counterproductively, Hal attacked the shirt Royston was still wearing. He liked Royston's skin. It tasted good, for one thing; and there was a lot of it, for another. Royston wasn't an especially big man in most respects, but he was long and broad and ever so slightly hairy. Hal ran his hands up Royston's chest and down over his shoulders again, the way the shirt had gone.

Royston's mouth found his, at once trapping and diverting him while he worked a hand around and slid a finger inside. Moaning, Hal clamped his legs around Royston more tightly, already impatient.

The angle was a little awkward on Royston's end, but he was managing just fine. Another finger, stretching now, and hitting the place inside that had him all but shuddering. Hal wasn't so mortifyingly quick to come as he had been a few months ago, but… " _Please._ "

Warm lips pressed his, parted, opened to his invasion even as Royston's cock invaded him. Hal still felt a flush of intimacy wash over him at just that act, the fact of Royston inside him.

It was always amazing. The way Royston moved with him, the hunger and tenderness in his eyes. Hal drank his love in through his lips and his hands and tried to give it all back.

Tonight, he drew Royston in tight, wrapped close about with his limbs, speaking with his body because his words for once hadn't quite caught up with them yet. Royston murmured in his ear, his voice fuelling the bonfire in Hal's veins.

Amazing, he thought again, how his own restless desire could turn Royston into a randy teenager at the drop of a hat. Well, it had been his scarf this time, necessary in public to conceal the mark Royston had left there _last_ night, when it had been Hal thrusting into _him_ , at a well-calculated angle that had him shuddering and gasping and falling apart in an unstrung tangle of limbs...

Oh. _Oh._ "Royston," Hal whimpered as teeth tugged at his earlobe and a big hand wrapped around his cock, pulling almost in time with increasingly irregular thrusts.

Hal shivered in anticipation of Royston coming apart inside him. He was so close, driven even closer by each brush of that wonderful skin, each stroke of that magnificent prick.

Royston bent down to tease his nipple—scrape of teeth, swirl of tongue—through the shirt Hal never had got around to discarding. Hal wondered, briefly, if the texture of wet fabric over sensitive skin was one of those kinks Cordelia had mentioned.

Dark-pupilled eyes met his, and she had been _right_ , that was totally deliberate, and Royston knew all sorts of things; and he wanted to—to—and with—

Hal came, mind reeling, and wondered dizzily what it was in his eyes that had sent Royston over the edge after him.

_Soon_ , he promised himself as they lay together afterwards. As soon as the blasted paper was finished, they'd take the time to do this right, no desperate grappling beneath the sheets. Not that the desperate grappling wasn't fun, too. Hal buried a grin against Royston's shoulder.

And soon he would talk with Royston about those...other things. He thought, just maybe, it wouldn't be so daunting after all.


End file.
